I Don't Love You

Love in an Elevator

Day Five (Part Two)

Everything hurts-- My head, most notably, but my body aches, too. When Gerard fled the room, I paced for what must have been close to an an hour. Then I sat down hard on the floor with my back against the wall and tried to comprehend what he had told me. That was when my head started hurting, but it only got worse as the hours ticked by. Sun arose beyond the crimson curtains, but I didn't respond. I paced some more after that, not really paying much attention to my steps as my thoughts raced. That's how I tripped over a pair of my own jeans and fell face first onto the carpeted floor.

After an hour of raking my hands through my hair, anxiously and painfully tugging on strands, I got restless again. I felt useless just sitting here. So I left.

I'm not really sure where I'm going and end up just walking the streets for another hour or so. And then I see something that looks like a sign from the heavens; A large building with a blue roof, huge white pillars and an arched doorway beckoning for me to enter. A library.

The atmosphere of the library is calm. Quiet. And it should relax me, but the air feels charged on my skin, like tiny bolts of lightning striking my flesh. It makes the hair on my arms stand on end, goosebumps arising.

I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but the Google search page stares back at me as my fingers hover above the keyboard. Waiting for me to make my move. Slowly, I type in a single word.

Asexual.

And a plethora of web pages are immediately at my disposal.

I've come across the word a few times before. When I started questioning my own sexuality, I talked to a few people online who had gone through the same thing. I also came across a couple of people who used the word; Asexual. But I didn't really understand it. It wasn't the word for me and I didn't pay it much attention. Now I click on the first link, leading me to a white and purple screen.

I spend two hours on the computer. I read everything I can find in that time, from stories of other people who have identified as asexual to tips and guidelines for friends and families of those who are ace. It's a lot to take in. My eyes are blurry, but my headache has dulled a bit. I'm pulled away from my thoughts when someone taps a finger on my shoulder. I jerk at the unexpected contact and look up to see a middle-aged woman peering at me from behind thin framed glasses. She smiles politely and I notice her nametag reads Genevieve.

The older woman speaks in a low voice, leaning a bit closer. "I'm sorry, sir. But it seems you're far past the allotted time. Other people are waiting to use the device."

"Right," I say dumbly. My brain feels like mush. I'm nowhere near done here, but I notice a kid fidgeting from foot to foot behind the librarian. "Yeah, sorry." I close the webpage, pushing the chair back. The kid takes my place and the librarian, satisfied, begins walking away. And then it occurs to me that I have other concerns and I lurch forward, hand on Genevieve's shoulder, stuttering, "Wait, excuse me. Could you possibly help me with something?"

The librarian turns to me, another soft smile in place. She's about an inch shorter than me, but she watches me with a motherly gaze. "Yes?"

"Well... Umm..." I fumble for words, struggling to find an intelligent way to phrase this. "Let's say, theoretically, that someone gets married in Vegas. Like in the movies. How could this person find out where it happened? Or if it really happened at all?"

"Oh, well the library won't do you any good," Genevieve says, shaking her head, and my heart sinks. Another dead end. But then she continues. "What you'll want are county records. If it was indeed a legal marriage, they will have a copy of the certificate."